Blaze (Heat #3)(4)

It's an open-ended understatement. The tension in his apartment last night was palpable.

For the past few years I've imagined what it would be like if I ever saw Sergio again. In some of those daydreams I'd race into his arms and he'd scoop me up the way he did when I was a toddler running into the kitchen of the first restaurant he ever owned. It was a small Italian place in lower Manhattan that got poor reviews but had a solid clientele.

He nurtured the business, spending hours perfecting each dish. Virtually every penny he made went into the interior design. He transformed the restaurant into one of the most popular places to eat in that part of the city.

I was too young to remember any of the details, but my nonna, Sergio's mom, had told me the story of his early success again and again. It was her pride that made her repeat the tale every single time we baked together. I loved hearing it. I felt honored to be his daughter and grateful to be her granddaughter.

I take a deep breath. "Things have been strained between us for years. We don't talk."

"Is that why you never mentioned him?" He eases himself onto the stool next to me, tugging the bottom of his shirt to straighten it. "If he was my father I would be telling anyone who listens that I'm a Firi."

"I'm a Sutton," I counter. "I've always been a Sutton."

I'm certain he knows what I mean. I can tell by the slight nod of his chin. Most people in my position in the industry would openly flaunt the fact that Sergio is their father. His name alone would open doors of opportunity for me. It would also create an unrealistic expectation.

It's natural for anyone who knows who my dad is to assume that I inherited my talent from him. I might have. I prefer to think that it's a combination of hard work, professional training and time spent in the kitchen with him while I was growing up. I doubt that I'd be where I am now if I only had the rudimentary skills my dad taught me to rely on. I took his lessons and built on them.

"Do you want to talk about what happened between you two?" He tilts his head and studies my face. "It's related to his wife, isn't it? Did she do something to piss you off?"

You could say that, Chef.

I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling protective of my relationship with Sergio. Tyler hasn't touched on what happened last night before I confronted my dad. He hasn't bothered to bring up the fact that he fired me and told me to get lost when I showed up at his apartment.

"I'd rather talk about why you're here," I say firmly. "I didn't expect to see you this morning."

He swallows hard, his index finger tapping against his thigh. "I went to Maribel's after Sergio left last night. I thought you might be there."

"You went to Maribel's?" I try not to sound surprised. I assumed that after what happened at his apartment that he'd pull a no-show at his birthday party. It hadn't occurred to me that he'd be in the mood to celebrate but I guess it makes sense. He wasn't the one who was fired from his job, dumped by his lover and forced to confront his estranged father all in the span of ten minutes. That was me, which explains why I was at home showering and leaning on my best friend for support.

"She went to a lot of trouble to set it up." He rubs his chin. "I didn't feel right about letting her, and everyone else there, down."

But you let me down.

I sigh heavily, unable to hide my disappointment. "I didn't think you'd go."

"Sergio left my place right after you did." He straightens, his shoulders tensing. "I thought you two might meet up to talk so I headed to Maribel's. I needed the distraction."

I needed him. When I finally went to bed, I craved the sound of his voice so desperately that I almost called him. I stopped myself though when I realized that it was after midnight and he still hadn't called me to talk about what happened.

It all makes sense now. He was toasting to his birthday, not worrying about whether I was okay. I clench my jaw. "I haven't talked to Sergio. I came home and took a shower."

He turns to face me full on. "About those things I said last night, Cadence. I was mad as hell when you showed up. I didn't have the full picture when I fired you. I don't want us to be done. I didn't mean any of it."

"I'm not coming back to Nova." I level my gaze at him. "I'm going to accept a new job this morning."

"What?" He raises a brow. "Where? You're not going back to Axel are you?"

I'm not about to let him drag Brendon's name into his already strained conversation. I can't handle that right now. "It's not Axel. I'm not going to work in a restaurant."

"You have a job at Nova, Cadence." He stands, his hands grazing the edge of the counter. "I don't want you to leave. You're too valuable."

His words catch me off guard. I'm not as valuable as Maribel or Rolly. I know I need to let that go but it's still there gnawing at me. I can't help but feel that his decision to promote them over me was based partially on the fact that we've been f*cking each other.

If I hadn't already decided to take the job that Barbara offered me, last night would have convinced me that it's the best move I can make right now.

I'm one personal misunderstanding away from being kicked to the curb at Nova. Tyler can't separate the work I do from what happens between the two of us. Even if the personal part of our relationship is over, the embers of what we did share will smolder for months. He'll fire me again if I cross him and I'm not about to give him that much control over my future.